


Fool's Gold

by SupaLollipop



Series: Endless Possiblilities [3]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Masquerade Ball, Pining, Terrible Dancing, War Heroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 09:40:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10409262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupaLollipop/pseuds/SupaLollipop
Summary: Marinette knew that she wasn't a good dancer. She could be a fearless warrior and a great hero but she couldn't fix her two left feet. Despite that, she wanted to go to the masquerade ball in the royal castle to meet a certain someone. Instead, she meets a masked jester under the moonlight...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! Haven't been writing fanfiction for a while but I felt the need for a masquerade ball AU. THE NEED. The French generally don't do balls in schools so it had to be a oneshot set in the past. Cuz I can't be bothered to think of a complicated plot. Enjoy!

Marinette was many things. A skilled seamstress. A wise advisor. A good friend. She could lead an army, devise flawless tactics and dominate the battlefield all while making it look like a ladies’ picnic.

She may be many things. But a dancer, she was not.

It was at times like these that she hated her accursed clumsiness. Very few people noticed after she became a hero but to the people who knew her before that they could only laugh and say ‘that’s our Marinette’. It was one thing that never changed.

Five different people asked her to dance that evening. All five left with bruised toes. Thankfully, they seemed like good noblemen who knew how to cover up so they bore with the pain with smiles on their faces. To escape from the misery and to avoid making a fool of herself for any longer, she slipped away to the castle gardens, taking solace in the moonlit scenery.

She dipped her fingers in the fountain, watching the ripples distort her reflection, and sighed quietly. She could have refused the invitation to the masquerade ball but first and foremost, before being a hero of the kingdom, Marinette was a young, ordinary lady and what lady could pass up something so unknown, so romantic and so thrilling?

In her excitement, she made her own dress and mask, all red with black spots. The ladybug-theme was a suggestion made by her mentor, Tikki, and she found that the pattern filled her with confidence for some mysterious reason. But despite the extra courage, it didn’t fix her inability to dance and for that, she lamented.

 _What a waste_ , she thought, tugging at the skirt of her dress. _I was hoping to meet the prince._

Prince Adrien lived in the castle but he was never seen, not even by the servants. It was said that he was blessed with Adonis-like beauty and had a smile that could bring people of all ages to their knees. He was the king’s greatest treasure, it was said, so he kept him locked away for safety.

But Marinette could care little for these rumours. The person she was looking for was the friend she made during the war. The knight who stayed by her side through thick and thin. His face was always covered by his helmet but that did little to conceal his overwhelming kindness and gentle guidance.

It was only revealed after the war that her armoured comrade was actually the prince in disguise. She was shocked at the time but she found that her opinion of him didn’t change. He was still her precious friend in her heart, the one who she could trust with guarding her back and the one who could bring her spirits up when she was down. Her one and only irreplaceable partner.

And when she heard that there was a masquerade ball, she found herself with an overwhelming urge to see him again. Maybe he would appear before her if it was behind another mask, she reasoned. She took a spoonful of hope and ran away with it.

But when she couldn’t find him in the crowd of swirling skirts and embellished suits, she wondered why her chest felt so tight and painful.

Over any of the faceless nobles she danced with, she would have liked to dance with him at least once. While thinking of her once-armoured friend, she listlessly traced her finger around the water.

 _Where could he be?_ She wondered. _What could he be doing on such a fine night as this? We lie underneath the same moon and stars and yet why is he just as far away to me?_

A voice interrupted the silence. “Here before my eyes is a beautiful lady sitting serenely under a moonlit sky. Truly a sight to behold.”

Marinette sprang up immediately. “Who goes there?!” Her fingers inched downwards to the blades she had hidden beneath her skirt. Once you’ve fought in a war, you were never caught unprepared.

A masked man appeared from the shadows of the nearby willow tree, bowing politely. “Do not fear. ‘Tis but a simple fool, milady.”

He raised his head and Marinette could see his mask properly. From the neck down, he was wearing well-made party attire and his mask was made to match with its black and green colour scheme. It was a half-mask fashioned to look like a jester’s cap along the top. But from its curiously intricate design and the fact that she couldn’t sense his presence earlier told her that this wasn’t just anybody.

“Fine.” She sat back down on the fountain edge. “Please refrain from speaking up without any warning like that in the future. It is not good for my heart.”

But tonight was a masquerade ball and it was simply bad manners to inquire about someone’s identity. It mattered not if he be a king or a beggar because for tonight, he was the mask. So if he wanted to be a fool, then she would play along with his act.

Green eyes gleamed from behind the mask. “Of course, it would do me great sorrow to scare a fair maiden such as yourself.”

Marinette sighed and turned her head. “Spare me the flattery, your silver tongue is a wasted breath. What do you want, fool?”

The jester’s smile dropped but only for a moment. “Ah, I do apologise, my lady. The ball and its extravagant air did not suit me and I... only wanted some company.” His voice quietened. “Was I too forward?”

Then Marinette realised what she had done. Her heart fell a little. “No, that was my mistake.” She was being excessively cold to this stranger, much more than she normally would. A stranger he may be but everyone deserved a chance. The last thing she wanted to do was turn into another Chloe. “My mood was sour and I lashed out at you unnecessarily. I’ll make up for it. Come here, sit by me.”

And if he had any plans up his sleeve she was certain that she could foil them anyway.

“If my lady insists.” He said that but she could tell that he was pleased as he trotted over to the fountain rather quickly. “So, if I may ask, what brings you here? I can lend an ear if that may give you some reprieve.”

At this question, she smiled a little self-deprecating smile. “It was nothing really. It sounds foolish now that I say it aloud. But I simply wanted to meet a friend.” She unconsciously went back to tracing shapes in the water. “I hadn’t seen him for a very long time so I was hoping to see him tonight.”

“But you didn’t.” He finished for her. “I am sorry.”

“No, you have nothing to be sorry for. I had little basis for my thoughts and I was merely being wishful. But he was - is - a dear friend of mine after all and I... miss him.”

Those heart pains came back again but Marinette could only bear with it in front of this masked stranger by biting her lip. “I’m sorry. I am being weak.”

“No, no, no, far from it!” Her companion was quick to refute. He seemed to be about to put a hand on her shoulder but seemed to think better of it. “It’s only natural that you’d want to see a friend! Feelings are is _not_ weakness, I assure you. This occasion was only bad luck and I’m sure you can meet again next time.”

Marinette laughed but didn’t appear to believe his words. “I appreciate your kind encouragement, good sir.”

“Well, I do hope that your friend realises how much of a fool he is by seeing what he’s missing out on tonight.” He gave her a playful wink, gesturing at her fancy ball attire.

Although he was unknowingly insulting their prince, she smiled and playfully punched his shoulder. “But aren’t you the fool here?”

His grin split across his face as he flicked an empty bell on his mask. “That I am.”

And so the lady and the jester chatted idly about their lives without speaking a word of each other's identities. She had the sense that he had been living some kind of confined life and didn’t pry any further. Neither of them did. They listened to each other, giving reactions at appropriate times, sympathising and getting angry on behalf of the other… things that friends would do for each other and something Marinette hadn't been able to do for a long time.

Marinette wasn't able to meet Adrien that night. But if it was through that loss that she got to make a new friend then maybe it was a loss she could deal with for a little longer.

An ancient bell tolled from within the castle and the two of them stayed silent as they waited for the bell to ring out all twelve times. Marinette rose first, brushing the crinkles off her dress. “As it is getting late, I must retire to bed soon. A lady must not waste her beauty sleep, isn't that right?” She faced him and smiled. “It has been a pleasure, mister fool.”

“As much as it was mine, my lady.” He took her offered hand but to her confusion he didn't let go after the handshake and held on tight. She sent him a questioning look but of course his face was unreadable behind his mask.

He too, stood up from the fountain and gathered both their hands together. He paused, as if to consider his next words carefully. “Would you like to stay for one dance at least?”

Marinette smiled bitterly and half-heartedly tugged her hands back. “Ah, no, that would not be the best idea…”

“Why not? It wouldn’t do to put this lovely melody to waste, after all.”

A soothing ballad had started up shortly after the bells rang and Marinette had only just noticed it. They were still close enough to the castle to hear the music but that wasn’t why Marinette tried to pull her hands away.

But suddenly he let go. “... Do you not want to? With me?”

He was looking down at his feet and Marinette felt her heart go out to him. Why did she do that? In trying to protect herself, she hurt his feelings. “No, that is not… No, I’m merely…” She sighed in frustration and rubbed her temples. “You will not wish to dance with me. I am… a poor dancer.”

Remembering the way she stepped on her dance partner's’ toes at the ball, Marinette felt like hiding herself away again. The last thing she wanted to do was disappoint her new friend or scare him away.

He was going to laugh and call her clumsy. He was going to forget all that ‘lady’ acting and treat her like the commoner she was. That was what she expected.

Laugh he did. But not in the way she was expecting. The sound of his laughter was… refreshing. It burst out like the first rays of sunshine after a long day of rain, bringing her back to the past for a moment. Somehow. Why did it sound so familiar?

“That was all?” He took her hand again and tugged her towards himself before she could react. His gloved hand brushed at her back and she realised what he was doing.

She almost panicked and froze stiff. “No, stop. I’ll just-” _mess up and disappoint you_ , was what she was going to say but was interrupted by his whisper.

“Let me lead. You’ll be fine. Trust me.”

Racking her brains for all the dance lessons she had, Marinette tried her best to keep up. But still, she was afraid of making a mistake.

“Look up.” she was told and she forced herself to stop looking at their feet. And at the mercy of his soft smile and gentle voice, she felt herself give in. She let her body follow his movements, swaying and gliding to the night’s melody.

Far from what you would expect from a court fool, he moved with the grace of a swan- no, a mischievous cat. There was confidence and surety in every step, dragging her along with it. He was enjoying himself with a big smile on his face and, surprisingly, so was she.

Just as she was beginning to believe that she could dance after all, with him, the inevitable happened. She stepped on his foot. She stammered an apology, but he only laughed and urged her forward, continuing their dance.

At first, she was baffled but she was soon infected with his laughter.

And, miraculously, she never stood on his toe again.

They danced and danced until the song came to an end and all they could hear was each other’s breaths and the splash of the fountain nearby. But even so, the dancing in her heart still hadn’t stopped.

It was familiar, again, stabbing her chest telling her to just remember. She found herself staring up at the eyes behind the mask, and being mesmerised by that emerald green shining with mirth. What was that feeling, that she couldn’t place or name?

He took a step back, taking his warmth along with him, but kept holding her hand. “It has been a lovely evening, my lady. You have truly made it magical.”

 _No, it was you who made it magical,_ she wanted to say, but didn’t have the courage to say it out loud. Why, when did she start losing her nerve to this… fool?

But he wasn’t a mere fool, of course. He was surely something more.

And when he bent down to place his lips on her gloved hand, her heart nearly burst out of her chest.

“Thank you. You have brought me more happiness than you could ever imagine… partner.”

Just as she thought her senses couldn’t be rattled any more, his last words jarred everything. _P_ _artner._ She felt that he didn’t simply mean to thank her for being his dancing partner. She looked into his eyes again, seeing that never-ending green, gave her flashes of black steel, of harsh battlefields, of campfires, of a name that she was only just forming on the tip of her tongue-

Then that green disappeared without warning as the mysterious jester slipped out of her grasp and leapt back into the darkness where he came from. “Until next time!” she heard him say, his voice echoing in the shadows ‘til it faded away, like ripples dissolving in water.

“W-wait!” she called out, to no avail. She was all alone, with the splish-splash of the fountain, the ever luminescent moon and the music of the long forgotten masquerade ball.

Her mind whispered his name over and over again. _It was him! Him, him, him! Adri-_

These thoughts were halted suddenly. Because the name did not matter. The person she had met was a jester, her dance partner and a friend. He was an old friend too but a friend nonetheless. That was one thing that didn't change.

 _Leaving like that is simply unfair_ , she thought. Unfair, cowardly and terribly impolite. She’d have words for him, the next time she saw him. And, as for that feeling that made her heart dance even after her feet already stopped moving, perhaps she would be able to name it by then.

And, perhaps, she would be able to tell him those words someday.


End file.
